


Unfaithful

by Barcaworld



Category: Football RPF
Genre: :(, Angst, M/M, can be seen as a friendship if you don't ship it!, written before neymar made his choice!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-15 03:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11797656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barcaworld/pseuds/Barcaworld
Summary: It's all over the headlines - Neymar to PSG. Meanwhile, Neymar has a big decision to make.





	1. Tell him

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This was a three part fic originally posted to my tumblr! It was written before it was announced that Neymar was leaving. I hope you enjoy!

Camp Nou is empty. The sun has long since set and the stadium is engulfed in darkness. A lone figure walks along the side of the pitch. Lost perhaps, he appears to tread blindly into the darkness in the face of uncertainty. 

A single light cuts through the shadows as the man unlocks his phone. Fingers slowly type out words which he has put off for longer than fair. Send, all he has to do is press send.

/Can we talk? I want to explain everything./

He doesn’t want to do this anymore, he doesn’t want to hide. Secrets, they weren’t supposed to have any secrets between them. Yet Neymar had lied through his teeth more than he ever had in his life time within the past two weeks. To his friends, to his team mates, to /Leo/.

Yet he can’t bring himself to press send and the message is soon erased.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You can’t tell anyone, not until the deal is done.” Neymar Senior’s voice is stern even through the phone. The younger Brazilian nods before realizing that his father cannot see him.

“Yes, I know, Pai. I-” He pauses as he catches sight of something outside of his car. It’s only seconds that he sees it has he drives by, but the words are big and clear, graffitied on the side of a building.

Neymar. Traitor.

A lump forms in his throat and suddenly, he feels like the world has come to a screeching halt. His grip on the steering wheel increases.

“I’ve got to go, Pai.” He manages, before turning off his Bluetooth and hanging up. From that moment on, his eyes stay strictly ahead of him on the road.

I’m doing it for Pai, for Rafa, for myself, he thinks desperately… Right?

He gets through training without any questions. They’d all questioned him the first week the rumors had started. They always did, they’d always all joke around about the latest crazy gossip that the media created yet this time he could not laugh along. It was happening, it was really happening.

Geri, Luis, Andres: they’d all tried to persuade him to stay regardless of his claims that he was still only ‘thinking about it’. They knew, whether he liked it or not. What a shitty liar he was.

However, a certain someone hadn’t said anything.

Leo.

The little Argentine hasn’t uttered a word, staying silent when there were group debates about the matter. Yet Neymar knows him well enough to see the long gazes that are cast upon him when he believes he isn’t paying attention.

He’s hurt, Lionel Messi is hurt and he’s the one that hurt him.

The man hides it from the rest of his team, but it’s there. Within his silence are looks of disappointment and flashes of sorrow that make Neymar’s heart sink.

So when he finds Messi’s car parked in the parking lot with a flat tire, he’s slightly reluctant to give him a ride home but offers anyway. They haven’t been alone together since the rumors started.

The silence between them is excruciatingly awkward, the Brazilian twitching every few seconds. How could Leo look so calm? Neymar bites his lip, glancing at the Argentine’s expression.

“I’m excited for the new season, we’ll win all the titles this year, yeah?”

“Sure.”

Neymar tries again.

“Did I tell you that I got Poker a new dog house? The one you recommended.”

“Eyes on the road, Ney.” Ah, so he’d been caught. The car suddenly feels hot, so much so that Neymar rolls down the window. He feels as though he has just run a full ninety minutes on the pitch and he might as well have with the amount that he’s sweating.

“Are you not hot? It’s really humid today, huh?” Neymar remarks nervously, taking one hand off the wheel to fan himself to emphasize his point. He’s just trying to break the silence, he hates it.

“No, because I have nothing to hide.”

Neymar freezes, surprise flickering across his eyes. His head snaps towards Leo’s direction, mouth slightly parted. He suddenly feels like he’s going to hurl, head spinning.

“I said eyes on the road.” Messi repeats evenly, as if he hadn’t just said the prior statement. As instructed, the Brazilian quickly gathers himself up and continues to look on ahead. However, his mind is anywhere but on the road.

“W-What? What do you mean?” Neymar fumbles with his words, gripping the steering wheel as if his life depended on it.

“You know what I mean.” Irritation has seeped into Leo’s voice. “ Do you think of me as a fool?”

“Of course not-!!” Neymar’s heart is racing at this point, unsure of what to do now that he’s being put on the spot, “I-”

“You think I don’t know you? You’re a shit liar, Ney. I know you better than I know myself for God’s sake! You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that?” Leo’s eyes are now on Neymar, seething with anger. Neymar flinches. He hasn’t seen him this angry in a while, or rather, ever. Yet when he turns his head to look at the Argentine, his gaze has softened. “When were you going to tell me?”

Neymar finds that he cannot answer him. He can’t lie to him, not anymore. He won’t.

You can’t tell anyone, not until the deal is done. Pai’s words echo through his mind. His throat feels dry, lips quivering. He wants to say something, but the words don’t come out.

Realization spreads across Leo’s face upon being answered with silence. His dark eyes seem to water for a moment, hurt reflecting off of his gaze.

“You weren’t going to tell me, were you?” He whispers quietly. Suddenly the vulnerability is gone and the walls are back up. When Neymar meets his eyes again, his gaze is hard and unreadable, “Stop the car.”

“W-What?!?” Neymar manages to blurt out of surprise. He blinks rapidly, shaking his head.  
“Stop the damn car Neymar!”

He does as he’s told and pulls over onto the side of the road. Before the car is even at a full halt, Messi swings the door open. Desperation clogs Neymar’s throat as he watches the Argentine rip his seat belt off and climb out. He can’t breathe, he can’t, he can’t -

“Leo, you can’t-” Tears sting at his eyes and blur his vision as he reaches out, “Please, let me explain-”

Lionel pauses, hand gripping the door. He turns to look at Neymar, waiting.

Tell him, Ney, tell him everything!

Yet his lips part and nothing comes out. He can’t, he promised Pai, he promised a lot of people. This wasn’t just about him anymore, he couldn’t say it.

A minute of tense silence passes between them. Leo’s jaw is locked, eyes guarded. A sense of acceptance washes across his gaze, a silent ‘I thought so’.

“I’ll walk.”

He slams the door.


	2. Promise me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pai leaves soon after dinner and once again, Neymar has the house all to himself. Poker sleeps soundly on the couch while the young man flips through one of his photo albums. Who would have thought that he’d have one when his whole life was practically already documented through social media?
> 
> A knock on the door has him off the couch.
> 
> “Can I help -” He yawns sluggishly as he opens the door, “-Oh.”
> 
> Lionel Messi is at his door.

Neymar doesn’t know why he finds himself lying on the floors of his house, cheek pressed against the cool hardwood. He halfheartedly bounces a tennis ball against the wall, entertaining Poker.

“You don’t hate me right?” He asks his canine, though he half expects the dog to start yelling at him too. He seems to be pissing everyone off nowadays, to the point where his dog seems to be the only one on his side. Then again, who knows what Poker would say if he could talk. Neymar has a feeling that he doesn’t want to know.

He hears the door unlock from down the hall.

“Pai?” He calls, maintaining his position on the ground even as Poker scampers on by with the tennis ball between his jaws. The Brazilian rolls over onto his back, yawning, “You’re back home early.”

“Well, I bumped into your friend earlier.” Neymar Senior enters the room, kicking his shoes off while an excited Poker trails behind. “The tall, loud one.”

“Geri?” Neymar raises his head in interest. “What did he say?”

“He pulled me over on the side of the road, waved like a lunatic so it was hard to miss him.” Pai laughs to himself. Neymar smiles- he can imagine it. “So he comes up to me saying, ‘sir, Neymar can’t leave, sir’. And the kid starts listing these reasons why you can’t go - my god, at this point we’re holding people up on the road.”

“He…he did?” Neymar sits up; there’s that lump in his throat again. “Then what?”

“I eventually tell him that he’ll know by tomorrow, that you’ll announce your decision yourself at the press conference for Rakuten.”

Neymar looks away. Tomorrow is it, tomorrow is the day that this all ends. Tomorrow, he will tell the truth to the whole world. After tomorrow, he will no longer be a Barcelona player.

“You’re making the right choice, Ney. You’re being brave.” Neymar Senior seems to notice the young Brazilians unease. “You’ll do the right thing, won’t you?”

“…Yes, Pai.” 

Pai leaves soon after dinner and once again, Neymar has the house all to himself. Poker sleeps soundly on the couch while the young man flips through one of his photo albums. Who would have thought that he’d have one when his whole life was practically already documented through social media?

A knock on the door has him off the couch.

“Can I help -” He yawns sluggishly as he opens the door, “-Oh.”

Lionel Messi is at his door.

“Can I come in?” The Argentine asks almost sheepishly, averting his gaze downward to avoid looking at the Brazilian for too long.

“Oh, uh, sure, sure.” Neymar hurries along, realizing that he had remained silent. He holds open the door, his thumb running over the door frame anxiously. Why was he here? He isn’t sure if he can take another fight.

Once La Pulga enters, he awkwardly settles in on the couch beside Poker. A few stiff pats are given to the dog though it’s clear that he too finds the situation unsettling.

The TV continues to play, filling the uncomfortable silence. Neymar isn’t sure what’s worse - turning the TV off and dealing with silence all together or letting Keeping Up With The Kardashians continue playing.

Finally, much to his relief, Leo speaks. The Argentine clears his throat, gesturing towards the table in front of them.

“You keep a photo album?”

“Yeah,” Neymar scratches his head, picking the album off the table, “I guess I like to keep important moments stashed somewhere close. Want to see?”

Upon seeing his counterpart nod, Neymar sets the book down between them and starts from page one. Baby pictures of him and Rafa back in Brazil are first up. All smiles and in the arms of their parents ; although Ney cannot remember these exact moments, they’re still special to him.

“You were a chunky baby.” Leo comments, an element of fondness lingering in his tone, “Like a balloon about to pop.”

“Hey!” Neymar is quick to defend, his lips forming traces of a smile, “I was overfed, that’s not my fault.” That’s a lie - he’s been told that he used to take all of Rafa’s food too.

“Mhm.” Messi shakes his head and smiles as he continues to turn the pages. Neymar proceeds to defend his honor for a few passing moments before eventually agreeing that yes,he was a little overweight during the earlier stages of his life.

“Don’t.” Neymar warns when they get to his pictures from his Santos days. He already knows what the Argentine is going to say, “Don’t you dare-”

“But your hair-”

“Shut up!” Neymar quickly flips to the next page despite Messi’s laughter. This happens every time. Every single time.” At least I didn’t have a mop living on my head unlike someone.”

Minutes filled with laughter and snarky comments follow. For the first time in ages, Neymar lets his transfer slip out of his mind. In this moment, his troubles are no longer on his shoulders - he’s free.

It’s not until they get to the more recent pictures that the laughter dies down and fades back into silence. Neymar’s gaze flickers across Leo’s expression in an attempt to read his thoughts. What is he thinking?

“I’m in here?” Leo speaks after a while, his voice soft. His thumb runs over one of the pictures of them, a subtle smile spreading across his face.

“Didn’t I say that I keep important moments in here?” Neymar smiles, “Important people too.”

Leo looks up in surprise, though Neymar isn’t quite sure what there is to be surprised about. Didn’t he know?

“Ney…” Leo sighs softly, looking down at his lap. The Argentine looks up after a moment and leans back into the couch, “Geri told me about tomorrow, the press conference.”

“You know I can’t-” Neymar starts, thinking that Messi is here to get answers which he cannot provide. To his surprise, Leo holds a hand up to silence him.

“I know.” It appears that Leo isn’t here for that. Rather, the older man sighs again, this time in understanding and acceptance. “Where you go doesn’t change anything. I believe - no - I know, that wherever you are, you’ll become the best in the world.”

The best in the world, perhaps even the greatest of all time is telling him this. But most of all it’s Leo who’s telling him this. Neymar really wants to interrupt but Messi pushes onward.

“Yes, you’re incredibly fickle and an idiot but there isn’t a soul on this Earth that’s kinder than you. You’ve got so much talent Ney, so don’t you ever let anyone tell you how to use it whether it’s me, your father, or anyone else. This is your life, you have to do what makes you happy. I need you to-” Leo places a firm hand on his thigh-  
“-I need you to promise me that you will.”

Neymar stares, unable to form words. His eyes are once again watering (god damn, he cries easily), his lips quivering. A loud sniffle follows as he nods determinedly through his tears. One final promise to Leo-

“I promise.”


	3. End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neymar makes his decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short epilogue! I hope you enjoyed!

‘Barcelona is my home….’

Neymar takes the microphone. Anxious, uneven intakes of air can be heard quietly as he parts his lips to speak.

‘…and I can’t picture myself playing anywhere but here…’

This is it. After this moment, four years will come to an end. All the blood, sweat, and tears shed for the Blaugrana, all the memories he had made, the good and the bad…

It’s all over.

“After careful consideration, I’ve decided to take the next step in my career.” He’d prepared a whole speech to give but suddenly, his mind goes blank. He’d said it, the words he had been avoiding all this time, “I’m going to PSG.”

The reporters go wild. Cameras flash. Out of the corner of his eye, Pai gestures for him to continue.

“I’ve been a very happy man for these past four years,” He starts again through the commotion. The crowd settles down upon realizing that he isn’t done. In the end, he forgets everything he was going to say, “But everything comes to an end. It’s time for me to start the next chapter of my life-”

It’s coming out all wrong. He wants to explain, he really does, but the media cling onto every word said. Their gazes feel as though they burn against his skin, grasping at every mistake he can make.

“I want to thank everyone for these past four years, for making them the most amazing four years of my life. My teammates, the fans, the club - thank you.”

There’s so much more he wants to say but the words abandon him, leaving him at the mercy of those within the room. He hangs his head in defeat, closing his eyes. An end of an era begins.  
‘You have to do what makes you happy…’

Is this what he really wants? It is, it should be. He wants to be the best, he wants to lead his own team and god, it’s making Pai so happy-

This is everything he ever wanted, yet why does his heart ache?

‘I promise…’

Had those words been a lie too? Another promise that he cannot keep? Was he the kind of man that offered no more than empty words and promises? He doesn’t know anymore.

All he knows is that it’s too late to turn back.


End file.
